"I expected things to go to hell and ruin, but not this fast. It's only been a single night." John's voice cut through the eerie silence, a stark contrast to the destruction surrounding them. Piles of rubble, shattered storefronts and overturned vehicles marked their path. "Something here is wrong, though – it's too quiet. Not like when we were attacked last night, but rather, there should still be some people around still scavenging."
Alice, skipping lightly over a fallen lamppost, offered a counterpoint before he could fully articulate his unease. "But isn't it normal? I mean, people changed, killed each other and some didn't even manage to change! There are bodies lying all over the place after all." Her gaze swept over a gruesome scene. "Oh! I'll be right back. Give me two minutes and just wait here!" Before John could utter a protest, she bounced away, vanishing into a partially collapsed building. With no other choice, John moved to a remarkably intact wall, leaning against its cool surface as he waited.
He scanned their surroundings, the stillness amplifying his apprehension. While bodies littered the streets, they were a paltry number compared to what a street in any populated area, even on a weeknight, should yield. The sheer lack of human presence, even among the transformed creatures, gnawed at him. As soon as Alice returned, he decided, they would move with renewed urgency – which for them, meant a slightly faster pace than their usual cautious crawl. He checked his phone, a sliver of hope that Fae might have sent a message. Nothing. Hoping it was simply too early, or that she was busy with her own struggles, he quickly typed a short message: Hope you're okay. Things decent on your side so far.
He tucked his phone away just as Alice reappeared, a wide, ear-to-ear grin stretching across her face. Perched atop her head was a ridiculous pair of oversized novelty bunny ears. "Please don't tell me you had us stop just to get those silly ears," he deadpanned. She fidgeted, attempting a look of innocent bewilderment.
"No, no, of course not! I'm not that insane, you know." She huffed, then brightened considerably. "I also got a pair of cat ears, a fluffy bunny tail and a kitty tail, some accessories and also some chocolates! Here!" She pressed a chocolate into his hand, her grin unwavering, as if the confectionery alone justified their delay.
John shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. He supposed he'd have to accept it. He took the chocolate and slipped it into his pack with a small shake of his head. "Well, let's go. No more delays now, I assume you got all you needed?" He gave her a pointed look, receiving another wide, unapologetic smile in return and with that, they resumed their journey, eyes open, acutely aware of their surroundings.
Their walk was a surreal parade of the bizarre. Basic slimes, as if lifted from some fantasy game oozed across the pavement. More corpses lay scattered but these were different from what they had seen previously. A strange, vine-like plant seemed to have taken root within them causing the bodies to twitch with an unnatural life. John had consumed enough media to recognize the threat, either the plant was using the bodies as sustenance or worse, creating its own brand of reanimated horrors. Both were bad, but he decided against engaging right now. He was far from ready and he wouldn't risk Alice over something like this let alone himself. Much to her protest before she finally relented when he promised it would be a "better fight later" if they let it grow a bit more. She accepted his reasoning with a pout, though her eyes still lingered on the twitching forms.
The continued absence of living people began to truly trouble him. He wouldn't voice his concern aloud though, fearing he might jinx it. Theories swirled in his mind, each one more unsettling than the last. Squeals of rat-like creatures echoed from nearby alleys. Strange flowers, iridescent and alien slowly spiralled around light poles. Shelbies wandered aimlessly, some with puffballs grotesquely latched onto their forms. The snapping sounds of bizarre sand crab creatures picking at corpses pierced the silence, joining a symphony of other, unidentifiable noises.
"My child, please, give me back my child, my baby!" A raw, guttural scream pierced the din. Ahead, a dishevelled woman stumbled towards them, head bowed, hair matted, clothes torn. As she lifted her head, a face contorted by fear and grief, marred by burns and cuts, came into view.
"Give me back my child!" she roared, her voice suddenly deepening, her body beginning a horrifying transformation. Her arms distended, muscles wriggling beneath tightening skin that stretched and ripped. Her face seemed to melt, reforming in a grotesque mockery on her chest.
"MY CHILD!" The creature shrieked, its voice now a rough, inhuman growl. Bones erupted from where her fingers had been, forming savage claws. Her legs bulged, elongating and twisting into a fleshy parody of a grasshopper's powerful limbs.
With a sickening lurch, the monstrosity leaned back, then lunged. John and Alice narrowly dodged the attack. Alice, scythe already in hand, reacted with fluid grace, her blade slicing through the air with precision, aiming for the creature's chest-face. But the creature, despite its bulk, contorted its body with uncanny flexibility, evading the strike. It retaliated with a powerful swipe, sending Alice hurtling to the side.
John charged forward, his grip tight on his dagger. Adrenaline surged through his veins, lending him a temporary surge of strength fuelled by both fear and fury. He timed his strike carefully, his blade finding purchase in the creature's leg. It howled in pain, a cacophony of guttural cries reverberating through the desolate street.
The creature's attention shifted to him, its malformed face twisting in rage. Its claws lashed out, striking him with a force that sent him crashing to the ground. Despite the impact, he didn't relent. His determination fuelled his resolve; he refused to succumb to fear or the searing pain of the landing.
Alice, quick to seize the opportunity, slashed her scythe through the air once more. This time, her strike connected, sinking deep into the creature's shoulder. With her free hand, she drew a knife from her dress, thrusting it repeatedly into the creature's back. Its agonized roars echoed through the desolate landscape, a chorus of suffering that pierced the dreadful silence.
The creature's frantic attempts to dislodge Alice gave John the opening he needed. Gritting his teeth, he rose to his feet, his dagger glinting in the pale light. With a primal roar of his own, he charged, channelling every ounce of his determination into the attack. His dagger found its mark, plunging deep into the grotesque face on the creature's chest. The creature convulsed violently, its body wracked with unbearable pain.
"Please, give me back my child." The words, barely a whisper, escaped its shifting maw before it collapsed fully, its massive arms giving out and forcing John's dagger even further through its chest. Alice, panting slightly, put her knife away and yanked her scythe free before making her way over to John.
Alice, her post-fight high still coursing through her veins, attempted to lighten the mood. "Now that was a fight! A bit fast, but I actually got hit! Yes, sticking with you was the right choice, ow." She grinned, though a hint of pain tainted her excitement.
John's expression softened as he retrieved medical supplies from his pack, tending to the gash on her arm. His concern for her overrode any lingering fear or adrenaline from the battle.
"Aww, you do care." She teased, almost bouncing with residual energy. "So, how was your first real fight?"
"I didn't like it." John told her, turning the creature's body over. He pulled his dagger out, then, with a heavy sigh, gently closed its eyes. "All this did was show me I'm right to hate those who forced this on everything. Even in my dreams, when this type of stuff happens and I attack places, I always try to keep the innocent out of it, she never asked for this, all she wanted was her child back."
He continued, his voice softer, more reflective. "True, there are always unfortunate casualties. That's normal and I know this is no dream. But even so, this was a horrible thing to do. Her own desire for the return of her child turned her into a monster. Hopefully, she's at peace now and that's about the only reason I haven't broken down, I hate it but I'm viewing her as a monster rather than a person." He cleaned his dagger with a cloth, then signalled Alice that it was time to move.
"Aren't you going to see if she has a core thingy?" Alice asked, bouncing over to him, seemingly unconcerned by the dead or John's sombre reply. "You earned it from taking that thing down."
"I'm not going to desecrate the dead." John's voice was firm, brooking no argument. "Taking an item or object like what we did to the reaper guy is one thing, but I'm far from the point of being alright with doing something to the body of an innocent. Right now, I'm even doing all I can to keep myself from throwing up. Even if she became a monster, she was once a human, more human than most have become. I don't want to talk about this anymore." The finality in his tone brought an end to the conversation.
"Well, at least you found that there's still people around," she couldn't help but quip, a small smile playing on her lips.
"Even so, it's still not right." John's unease, only worsened by speaking it aloud, deepened further. "That was a single person. Let's say there were four hundred people here; about half died. That would still leave around two hundred, yet we have only found one person. Or better yet, let's say there's one living person for every dead one. Why is it we only found this one person? Where has everyone gone?" He explained, his gaze sweeping the silent, desolate street, the question hanging heavy in the air between them.
"Well, even so," she began, a casual wave of her hand dismissing the unspoken concern. "Maybe there's a sale somewhere and everyone just rushed over to it? Or perhaps the area was really quiet when… things happened."
John's jaw tightened. Her flippant suggestions did nothing to soothe the growing prickle of apprehension that already hummed beneath his skin; in fact, they only seemed to sharpen it. The sole bright spot in the oppressive atmosphere was the sight of his own street, his home growing nearer with each step.
Yet, with every stride, a cold pit of worry seemed to deepen in his stomach. It was a gnawing unease, solidifying into a heavy dread that promised no easy comfort, growing more insistent with each echoing sound of their approach.